


They're Back

by starsmahogany



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Mockingjay, References to Torture, mockingjay au, references to violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-06
Updated: 2018-12-06
Packaged: 2019-09-12 17:51:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16877484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starsmahogany/pseuds/starsmahogany
Summary: A look at what might happen if Peeta wasn't hijacked when he was rescued from the Capitol.Katniss' POV, Mockingjay. Originally posted to Tumblr in 2015.





	They're Back

Those two simple words are enough to send a bolt of energy, of anxiety, of relief, surging through my body.

I was petrified that the rescue mission was going to fail, and end up with fatal consequences. The moment we lost contact with the rebels, those brave souls who risked their lives for my request, I thought it was all over.

Not only did I believe I had lost Gale, but Peeta as well. 

The person who understands me in all of this. The person I would die to protect. The person I cannot live without.

But somehow, fate have it, they managed to return, safe and sound.

It takes me a moment to process what Haymitch just told me, before I’m barreling out the door, running blindly as I careen for the piece of my life that has been missing for far too long.

I think I can hear Finnick behind me, but I’m too wrapped around my own motives to pay him much notice. We arrive into the main ward of the District Thirteen hospital together, and immediately my eyes are scanning around.

He’s not here, or at least I don’t think so. But others certainly are.

I spy an emaciated feminine body on a gurney, and I find myself doing a double take.

“Johanna?” I weakly croak out.

She rips the breathing tube out of her nose, shoving medical attendants away, before giving me a sneer smile.

I stare at her agape, unable to say anything more. I’m absolutely horrified at her appearance; she has changed so much. 

If the Capitol was able to inflict that much damage on her, someone who wasn’t directly associated with me, then what they did to Peeta would have to be…

My throat clenches painfully, and I shake my head curtly to snap myself out of my thoughts.

No, he’s here. I have to remind myself that. He’s here in District Thirteen, alive.

It doesn’t matter if he’s completely bruised, battered, beaten and bloody; he’s Peeta. He’s my Peeta. And I will never let him from my sight again.

I jolt away from Johanna just in time to see Finnick crashing into Annie, their embrace tight and filled with tears. Is that how my reunion with Peeta will be?

Various nurses point me in the right direction, and I stumble towards the small hospital room in a daze. Giddiness has begun to flow through me, overtaking any fears I was once feeling.

_Peeta. Peeta. Peeta._

His name sounds in my mind over and over again, causing my heart to race.

I can picture his shinning blue eyes, staring into mine with so much affection and gentleness laced behind them. I can hear the sound of his voice, the soft, sweet tone that never fails to soothe me. I can feel the strength of his arms, the solidity and warmth of his embrace.

It doesn’t even sink in that I’m crying, tears dripping periodically down my cheeks as my gait speeds up to a run.

_Peeta. Peeta. Peeta._

I’m so close to being with him again. So close to locking him in my arms and never letting him go.

I near the door, bumping into Gale. His expression is unreadable, his mouth set in a tight line. But I am unable to stop myself from leaping into his arms, hugging him tightly as I try my best to express my pure gratitude.

“Thank you,” I whisper, before letting him go and re-focusing.

He simply nods, says nothing, and allows me to pass.

I take in a sharp, quick breath, before sliding the door of the medical bay open. 

My eyes immediately blur with tears, my knees threatening to buckle as various emotions flood me at once.

Though Peeta has his back turned towards me, I can tell he has been through literal hell.

He has lost a considerable amount of weight, the vertebrae of his neck protruding, and his spine poking out from beneath his hospital gown.

His strong arms have lost mass, and are strung with cuts, bruises, and blemishes.

His skin is discolored, balmy, almost carrying a grey tint to it, like the life has been sucked out of him.

And though I may be imagining it, it looks like there are small tremors rolling through his body.

The doctors tending to him take notice of me, and they nod, stepping away and allowing me full access.

My feet are glued to the spot for a moment as I try to drink in the situation.

I’m so relieved to see him, so very happy to have him back in my life. But it pains me like nothing else, to see him so tortured, so broken. I cannot even begin to imagine what the Capitol has done to him, and everything he endured, everything he fought against, everything that made him fight for his life…

…Was because of me.

My actions reflected on him. They used him, breaking him to break me.

I bring my hand up to my face, cupping my mouth as a sob builds up in my throat.

Thank God we managed to get him out. Surely Snow would have killed him, on account of my latest actions. He would have never made it.

Peeta’s movement snaps me out of my thoughts. He was slumped over initially, but seems to have straightened up. Perhaps he heard me?

Not wanting to startle him, I slowly walk around his side, easing myself in front of him as I whimper out his name.

“…Peeta?”

Something in him seems to ignite as his name slips from my lips, like it gives him the strength to push through whatever pain he is currently experiencing.

He lifts up his head, slow and heavy, and his bloodshot eyes meet mine.

His wonderful, ocean blue eyes.

The cry in my throat manifests, tears pushing themselves from my lids.

His face is completely covered with wounds. There are bruises dotting his cheeks, deep cuts stretched across his forehead, and needle sites all along his neck and jaw.

His hair is missing in places, and his jaw hangs slightly slack.

But what happens next brings me back into reality.

“…Katniss,” he breathes out, holding my gaze and staring deep into my soul.

This is actually real. This isn’t some kind of dream, where I discover Peeta in District 13, only to have him vanish when I awake.

He’s here. He’s with me. He’s able to speak, recognize me.

He’s alive.

Moisture drips steadily down my face as I step completely in front of him, allowing us time to look each other over.

“Is….is it really you…?” he whispers after a moment.

I could sob from the hesitation and fear laced in his tone. I cannot even think what kind of fear conditioning they used on him. My name crossing his lips, or my face crossing his mind, most likely equaled torture.

They probably tried to convince him that I was the enemy, that what I was doing was wrong. That his love for me was unjust.

They tried to take my Peeta away, in more ways than one.

“Yes, Peeta,” I choke out, taking a few, shaky steps towards him.

My words hang heavy in the air for some time, but suddenly, they must sink in. 

Because without delay, Peeta begins to cry, sobs shaking his body as he breaks down before me.

My heart breaks more than I thought was possible, and my hands gently cup his cheeks without thinking.

“Peeta…?” I whisper out, crying along with him.

His hands, shaky and sickly, reach out to touch me, as if to prove that I’m really there.

And the warmth that shoots through me at his touch comes with an immediate flutter to my heart.

Gently, just as he would before he was captured, his long fingers caress my back, my shoulders, my arms, my neck. He reacquaints himself.

And finally, his broken voice sounds yet again.

“You’re safe,” he chokes out, and I clamp down hard on my lip, to prevent myself from convulsing with cries.

He’s had to endure the worst type of pain possible. He’s a living skeleton of his past self. And yet, I’m still the one thing he cares about. He holds my life above his own. He would practically stare death right in the eyes, as long as equals my well being.

“Peeta,” I rasp again, saying his name to make up for all the times when I was unable to, “I…”

Words escape me, but as usual, he compensates, proving that his old self has not left him.

“We’re here, Katniss…It’s….it’s okay,” he says in between gasps.

He’s comforting me. Again. He’s the one providing me comfort, when clearly he is worse off.

I decide to change that.

My arms wrap tightly around his torso, and I crush myself against his body, holding on for dear life.

He whimpers, and suddenly I’m fearful that I’ve hurt him. But I feel him return the embrace, his touch still strong, all the while entirely gentle.

I stroke my fingers through his hair, crying against him as I nestle my head into his shoulder.

There is so much I want to tell him, so much I feel like I need to say.

I want to apologize for everything. I want to apologize for leaving him that night. I want to apologize for the things the Capitol has inflicted upon him. I want to apologize for not getting him out sooner.

I want to tell him how much I panicked, how empty I felt, without his presence by my side.

I want to tell him how much I feared for his life, each and every day.

I want to tell him how much I missed him.

I want to tell him that I need him.

But I can’t. I simply continue to weep into his neck, never wanting to let him go.

And he seems to understand. Or maybe he feels the exact same way; there is just too much to be said. Too much time that has passed between us, without any kind of interaction or assurance that we were alive.

Too many precious moments that we need to catch up on. Too many hugs to be had, and kisses to be shared.

So Peeta does the one thing when words happen to fail him.

He slowly leans away from me, even though my arms remained locked around his torso. It’s just enough so he can glimpse at my face, and connect our solemn, broken stares.

We share a teary glance for a moment, before his head eases towards mine.

Our lips meld without a single respite, locking together in the perfect fit.

He tastes sweet, the warmth of his kiss still evident after all of this time. His lips are still supple, and tender. Nothing about this has changed at all. It feels like the time he kissed me, right before our fateful part.

Except this kiss carries something far deeper within it.

It goes so far to say everything that words cannot.

Every glide of our lips is an apology to one another.

Every pass of our tongues is a solemn swear that we’ll never leave each other ever again.

Every caress of our cheeks is a promise that we are indeed safe and sound.

Every sigh that leaves us is a sign that our affection runs deeper than ever imaginable.

Every beat of my heart within me screams what is nearly impossible to pass through my mouth, what I find so hard to say.

_I’m so thankful you’re back in my life._

_I missed you so much._

_I love you._


End file.
